Crulamin Darksbane's Story

From the door of the infamous bar emerged a young man clad in an almond brown tunic and forest green trousers. Across his chest was an embroidered eagle. In his gloved hand was a long wooden staff with the carved image of a falcon with its wings folded over its body. A dark brown satchel swung over his shoulder while a bright green wool-lined cloak flowed behind him. Curious hazel eyes glanced around the room as subtly pointed ears twitched at the sounds around him. Across the young man's face was a crimson runic tattoo that glimmered with faint arcane energy. Short auburn hair covered his head.

After surveying the room, the half-elf made his way to an empty booth. Leather boots squeaked lightly as he strolled across the wooden floor. His staff clunked against the planks, mixing with the cheerful tune he whistled.

Crulamin scooted into the booth and opened his satchel. From within he retrieved a large leather-bound tome. It landed on the table with an audible thud. The half-elf chose to ignore the drama escalating in the bar since it generally never amounted to anything productive. With a soft click he opened the tome and began reading the archaic elven script.

As Crulamin read his tome, a chill ran up his spine. He glanced up, looking eyes with Anton. The half-elf raised his brow and blinked. Well, that was peculiar. With a roll of his eyes, he went back to his reading.

Crumalin let out a stifled cough and a wheeze. Frak, not again. The boy's breathing exhaled in short constricted gasps as he reached into his satchel. He retrieved a small smoking pipe and a brown bag. His chest heaved with each breath as he opened the bag and removed several leaves. Crumalin stuffed the leaves into the pipe and snapped his fingers, causing a small spark.

Then he pressed the pipe against his lips and made long deep breathes.

"Wooo..." Aaron panted as their second song drew to a close. "You're a great crowd tonight, Wing City! If you like our music, please leave a donation in the box on the side of the stage. All our profits are going to local charities. This was a tough year for Terra, but remember that it does no good to weep for the fallen. Instead we should weep for the families they left behind - all the orphans, widows, and homeless. This next song is a personal favorite of ours... It is a cry - a prayer - for peace - in the hope that one day our children can roam freely through the streets and nations will forget war..."

"One... Two... One two three four!"

A calm soothing string of chords emerged between the two guitarists, accented by a background resonance from the bass guitar. They strummed slowly and precisely across the strings.

"Ooooooahhyaaahhaaaa... Hamahalllaaaahaaa... One daayy... One dayy... Amalalaaa... One daayyyy" Aaron and Jacob sang and hummed into the microphones. Becca readied her violin behind them and formed the rhythm with a steady plucking from her bow.

"Sometimes I lay under t'e moon... An' thank God I'm breathin'!... Then I pray - don' take me soon... 'Cause I'm here for a reason!"

In a deft movement, Marty picked up his trombone and took over Becca's rhythm. Her free fingers danced across her keyboard with fluid-like movement.

"Sometimes in mah tears I drown..." Aaron and Nathan joined together. "But I nevah let it get me down... So when negativity surrounds... I. Know. Some. Day. It'll all. Turn around!

"Because..." Jacob joined with the drums. "All mah life I've been waitin' for - I've been prayin' for... for the people to saa-aayyy... That we don' wanna fight no more! There will be no more war! An' our children will plaa-ayyy..."

"One daaay!... One daaaay!... One daaaaayaaayy..."

"One daaay!... One daaaay!... One daaaaayaaayy..."

---

As the band flowed through the first verse, a gentle hand rested on Gabby's shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss..." said a voice. "Are you alright?"

A young man clad in an almond brown tunic and forest green trousers stood over her shoulder. An embroidered eagle was laid out across his chest. His gloved hand held a long wooden staff with the carved image of a resting falcon at the top. A dark brown satchel swung over his shoulder while a bright green wool-lined cloak flowed behind him. Curious hazel eyes looked down at the girl as slightly pointed ears twitched at the music surrounding them. A crimson runic tattoo glimmered with faint arcane energy across his face.

"You seem a little distressed," he said with a smile. "Need some help getting out of this crowd?"

Gabrielle was quickly losing her touch on reality and if something didn’t change quickly, she was going to completely lose it just like she did previously and this time Norrington wouldn’t be there to reel her in. The teenager was on the brink of insanity, an instability that was passed to her via her mother’s blood without her knowledge. In fact, if anyone was going to totally lose it, it should be her sister, not her, but apparently that just wasn’t the case. Both fists clenched against her sides and she fought to take in deep breaths in order to remain calm or as calm as one could be when they thought the world was out to get them.

Matters were made worse when the band indicated that they were playing for charity, but it wasn’t just that they were playing for a charity, it was what the charity was for. It struck a deep chord and now she wasn’t sure if she should start bawling or just blow up everything around her. Her jaw tightened as energy began to flow through her body, much like the music flowed around the crowd. Her hand was on the verge of dipping into her pocket in order to snatch a few cards when she felt a presence behind her. The touch of a hand upon her shoulder was more than the lithe female could handle and before she could even register what was going on, she was snatching for the arm attached to the hand in order to flip him over her shoulder if he didn’t move away from her, that is.

“DO NOT TOUCH ME!”

It took her a couple more minutes to register that there was an actual body attached to the arm despite that being logical. She stared hard at the stranger, trying to figure out if she knew him, if he was an enemy or a potential murderer. She narrowed her glowing red eyes towards the individual, taking in every inch of his being from the strange runic tattoo all the way to his foresty-type outfit. Her ears were ringing and she fought to actually hear his words and could only nod when he asked if she needed help out of the crowd. Her head was spinning and she knew there was a chance that she was about to faint or kill – one of the two.

"Ooph!" Crulamin grunted as he slammed into the concrete. "Woah... Didn't see that coming."

The half-elf attempted to rise to his feet as the band continued their song. He rubbed his head and looked down at the girl. Crulamin quirked his eyebrow as she nodded and stretched out his gloved hand for her to take.

"I don't like crowds either." he said. If she took his hand, the half-elf boy would help her up and lead them both through the crowd.

Bigsby suddenly snapped back into reality as his efforts elsewhere seemed to be in vain and with a strange gesture of his hand he was gone from sight and mind.

Gabrielle dug her hand into the pocket of her jacket, snatching three playing cards; a 3 of diamonds, 9 of spades, and a 9 of clubs. To most anyone looking, they appeared to be normal playing cards, but in her hands, they were had the potential of being completely dangerous. She didn’t even realize that at some point in time, she had managed to crouch down on the ground, the sounds of the music and crowd rushing over her head. It was becoming far too much and even as he held out her hand towards her, Gabby was subconsciously charging the cards. Ever since the deaths of her mother and supposed death of her sister, the young teenager had immense difficulties controlling her abilities gained through her father’s genes.

“Rrrr…”

There was enough sense in her to know that throwing the cards at the stage or into the audience would cause innocent deaths and injuries, but that sense was quickly disappearing. Finally taking his hand, she kept the glowing cards close to her, making sure not to touch anything or anyone with them. Of course, it would be only a few seconds longer before they discharged on their own and that could cause her hand to be blown off. That wasn’t a good thing either. Finally spotting an empty spot far enough from the crowd that no one should be hurt, Gabby threw the three cards towards the ground. The explosion wasn’t super loud and she hoped that no one would hear it nor notice it over the band’s music.

“…Get me out of here before I start killing…”

"You've been a great crowd tonight, Wing City" Nathan said as they finished their third song. "We're gonna take a ten minute break before playing our last two songs." Marty flipped a switch and a smooth blues song played through the speakers. The band set their instruments aside and walked backstage.

Meanwhile, Crulamin guided Gabrielle through the dense crowd. They weaved between the music enthusiasts, who conversed with each other as the ambient music played. After a minute they emerged from the edge of the crowd. Crulamin plopped onto a bench and rested his staff against the armrest

"I'm not a fan of crowded areas myself." he finally said. "Never even planned on going here... I was just walking along, heard the music, and thought it was interesting..."

When the band finally took a ten minute break, Gabrielle felt her head clearing just a little bit. Was it the music? Was it doing something wonky to her mind? Shaking her head, she kept a firm grasp on Crulamin as he moved her through the crowd. Thankfully he seemed to find his way through the people without much trouble. She removed her hand from his as he sat down on a nearby bench and she peered up at the sky with a sigh. The teenager was feeling a little bit better now that she wasn’t being all crammed in with people. Or was it because the music they were playing stopped? Of course, there was some kind of blues song playing, but it didn’t have the same type of pulse like the others.

“…Well, thanks. Wait! You said that you weren’t planning on coming here, but the music drew you in?! That… that means! Oh course!! The band is up to something suspicious! They’ve got to be! It’s the only explanation of how the crowd grew so large in such a quick time! When I first came here, there were barely anyone around, but before I knew it, the people flocked like mindless sheep to the barn to be sheared!”

She glanced back towards the stage and noticed that it was empty. She had exactly ten minutes to snoop before the band returned to their instruments. Taking off like a shot, she weaved between the talking people, leaping up onto the stage. Everyone was busy doing their own thing, so no one noticed her or at least she hoped that was the case. She picked up one of the guitars, peering at it closely. Was there some enchantment on it?

“Hmm…”

Gabrielle had long grown tired of investigating the instruments in the Town Square and suddenly remembered the address she was supposed to be looking for. Setting down the guitar, she glanced over towards the fellow that helped her out of the crowd and just nodded her head towards him out of respect. She also shouted out a quick thank you before leaping off the stage and heading down the street once more. She wasn’t quite sure where she was heading, but figured her gut instinct would lead her in the right direction. The blues that had been playing all but died out and she shoved both hands into her jacket pockets, sighing up at the sky.

A young mad clad in an almond brown tunic and forest green trousers emerged from the door. An eagle was embroidered across his tunic. He held a long wooden staff in his gloved hand. The head of the staff was carved in the image of a falcon with its wings folded over its body. A dark brown satchel hung from his shoulder while a bright green wool-lined cloak flowed behind him. Curious hazel eyes glanced around the room as subtly pointed ears twitched at the ambient sounds. His face was marked by a crimson runic tattoo that glimmered with faint arcane energy. Short auburn hair hung loosely from his head.

The half-elf made his way to an empty booth after surveying the room. Leather boots squeaked lightly as he strolled across the wooden floor. His staff clunked against the planks and mixed with the cheerful tune whistled from his pursed lips.

A young mad clad in an almond brown tunic and forest green trousers emerged from the door. An eagle was embroidered across his tunic. He held a long wooden staff in his gloved hand. The head of the staff was carved in the image of a falcon with its wings folded over its body. A dark brown satchel hung from his shoulder while a bright green wool-lined cloak flowed behind him. Curious hazel eyes glanced around the room as subtly pointed ears twitched at the ambient sounds. His face was marked by a crimson runic tattoo that glimmered with faint arcane energy. Short auburn hair hung loosely from his head.

The half-elf made his way to an empty booth after surveying the room. Leather boots squeaked lightly as he strolled across the wooden floor. His staff clunked against the planks and mixed with the cheerful tune whistled from his pursed lips.

Crulamin gave the trio a friendly nod before he took a seat as his own table. He reached into his pack and pulled out a large bound tome filled with parchment. The young man popped open the binding and opened the book to a page covered in runic text and diagrams. His eyes narrowed in concentration as they deciphered the words.

Long had Gaia gone without any sort of war. All the great kingdoms of Si'ven were usually happy enough to keep to themselves, and do their best to grow internally. But now came the day of the Sapphire Incursion, as the titular Sapphire Empire strode boldly into the fields surrounding Skyfall Citadel.

But this was no invasion, no petty land grab. No. It was a crusade. A divine mission to ensure the everlasting dynasty of dragon kind, and the verse of Io as a greater whole. Theredax, son of the Suzerain, would see to it that it was seen through to its conclusion. The dragon prince stood atop a large, temporary tower, allowing him to overlook the arrayed army. These were the forward troops of the Sapphire Empire; primarily unskilled serfs who had a debt to pay. Individually they would be little match for Skyfall's hardened veterans, but that was what the war wizards were for.

The forward soldiers, clad in a dark blue and brass tabbard and chainmail, primarily carried long ranseurs, with a scimitar as backup on their hips. A small yet strong round shield adorned their right forearms, and each one had a leather helm with a single brass horn jutting from the brow. They were organized in groups of one-hundred, and each battalion had four wizards, clad in blue robes and leather jerkins, to supplement these basic warriors with powerful spells that increased their strength, speed, and hardiness to truly inhuman levels. Currently, Theredax had twelve of these battalions on the front line, and sixteen in reserve.

Behind them rode the spell-saddles; mounted combat mage fitted in heavy armor. These lesser mages lacked the talent for true sorcery, but were more than proficient in hastily casting simple attack spells, such as fireballs, acid clouds, and simple bolts of lethal magic. They doubled as the Sapphire Empire's ranged specialists, each one armed with a heavy crossbow and enchanted bolts. Each squad of spell-saddles consisted of fifteen riders and one squad leader, who was mounted on an equisphinx. They acted as spotters for the rest of the squad, as well as standard bearers. Theredax had five squads and three in reserve.

In addition to these regiments, Theredax also had nine siege golems, three chain devils, two iron golems, and four blue felldrakes. These lithe, bestial creatures were two legged dragons, bred from normal blue dragons to have all the strength and ferocity without any of the intelligence. They followed Theredax like a dog's loyal to a master, and relished any opportunity to prey upon human flesh.

Theredax also had Grey.

The Suzerain's Arch-Mage stood to the prince's right, taking in the arrayed troops. He would be responsible for communicating with the regiment leaders relaying their intelligence to Theredax, and in the event that the dragon prince elected to enter battle himself, Grey would oversee the tactics.

"Good weather today. It would appear fortune favors us." Grey said with a dry expression on his face. Theredax replied with a soft, hissing laugh, barely audible over the steady wind that rushed across the plains. It was funny because the weather had been altered specifically by Grey to be favorable, with the wind blowing in the direction of Skyfall's troops. By this point, Skyfall had sallied forth with their own mass of warriors, who's gleaming steel and leather contrasted sharply against the Empire's brass and blue satin.

"I believe everything is in place." Theredax said, shifting his weight aroubd beneath the heavy draconian armor he wore. "Begin the assault."

"Yes, Theredax." Grey said. With a few gestures of the hand and the tapping of his staff on the floorboards, a massive horn blast sounded off; three short blasts that signaled a slow advance. A second signal sounded moments later; a long, warbling tone that ended on assertive note. With this, the siege golems began plucking large boulders from where they stood and loading them into their catapult arm. Without a moment's hesitation, these were sent flying into Skyfall Citadell, where they detonated on impact.

...

The patrons inside the Ruby Flask would suddenly hear the city's alarm bells ring, as distant screaming and shouting was heard in the distance. Not seconds later, the sound of thunderous explosions could be heard, some close enough to cause the crossbeams of the tavern to splinter...

The City of Skyfall had recovered in repairs, albeit slowly, from the recent crusade. It didn't seem to matter who was really ruling, for the people still drank, and slick figures still had jobs for easy money. Citizenry went about their day. It was a nice day, the weather was clear, the suns were shining, and the wind wasn't whipping like it had a tendency to do this high up.

From far in the distance, deep in the Exalted Mountains, a light rumble rumble reached for the Skyfall Citadel; it was shortly and suddenly followed by a distant crack like thunder. Citizens of high stature, circumstance, and geography witnessed something spectacular! The peak of a distant mountain exploded into a sum of pieces! Now detached shards of mountain flew through the air, around the distant mountain, then concentrated somewhere out of sight. It begged the question of all who saw, where did the peak of the mountain go?

A blinding light came beaming from where the shards of the mountain whisked themselves away to, concentrating on the peak that once was. With a bright flash like a sun flare it was almost as if nothing had happened! The peak was restored! It didn't have any snow left on it, however.

Strange, strange magics were happening in the Exalted Mountains.

In the explosion of magic visited upon the nearby mountain a quietly waiting overbeing took the opportunity for cover. In a disused alley behind a small shed a whirlpool of distortion comes with an oncoming conduit from Genesis. A small webbed foot with smooth sandy skin sparked with dim red bolts among the grains. A red corona came from its mouth that followed above it eyes with a galaxy of fuzz made from red oscillating networks of bolts somewhere deep within its eyes. They look to and fro fuzzy flexible horns on his head wobbling slightly as hair moves in patterns against the winds to the tips. His four ears flap further open to hear the environment before emerging from the tunnel entirely. Spinal ridges pump in waves quite quickly as the nervous creature breathes quickly in and out the Aether the tail slowly turning translucent pumping a red glow in time. The trail it left sizzled ash from the stone though it have the telltale ash of fire.

It chirped a high-pitched children's voice as the well of distortion closed behind it, "Myrkul! All things are different! Fun!"

The voice continued in a warbled one-sided conversation as it was picked up in the mouth of a stray dog and shook, "Pretty patterns of concordance! WHEE! What is animal doing? Eating? I am not for eating! Spud is angry!"

The tail lashing at the stray dog's side left whip marks of destroyed flesh as it growled while trying to tear apart the small creature. In its mouth Spud's sandy pierced was pierced though did not bleed. Deep red bolts emerged from the pierced flesh to aggressively erode the dog's enamel as well as its mouth. The dog yelped and Spud turned with a fuzzy dark red tongue to lick the holes away the spine-gills pumping wildly oscillating the growl while Spud licked the holes away the fuzz growing from each hole.

Spud understood what an enemy was, Myrkul told it so that it could avoid notice, and it didn't like this animal. It was trying to eat Spud. Spud ate better than the animal. The dark red light in its mouth flared as Spud's four ears went stiffly back spine-gills flaring and pulsing wildly with its throaty hiss.

The starving stray dog's instincts told it to run from the small creature but hesitation was its downfall. Spud loosed a network of translucent tubes crawling through space from its small maw that made contact with the dog's shoulder rooting through flesh and out the side of its skull. The network stiffly held in space turned slack a net containing a twitching dog with roots from another hungry mind in its brain. Across the stone spud retracted the twitching body angular roots disappearing into the deep red glow until the dog reached its maw. Roots exploded throughout the dog's body as its skull and bones cracked to drag the dog inside Spud's maw. Thin ash came from the spine-gills that discarded discordant ectoplasm from the dog's maladies as it was consumed.

"The King hath'n mad" Bawled a woman three drinks past drunk. She received a harsh elbow from more than one at her table. They all hoped nobody important overheard their conversation. Despite fears of execution, or worse, they continued their tipsy speculations.

"They'll verily be hangin' 'er," one man frankly remarked, causing another wail from the drunken woman.

"He a stone foo-" She didn't manage to finish her sentence before someone stuffed a pretzel in her mouth. The woman angrily finished the treat. The King was a fool, she thought to herself, and they were all going to perish because of it. Who could ignore the signs? Surely the Oracle didn't. To think the Oracle was once considered a main line of defense, a trusted advisor, the left hand of the Crown! Now?

"Tellyawhat. Hangeth she may, dieth she don't," Remarked the pretzel-stuffer, "Summin weird on folk in the oraclin' an' magickin trades. Tellyawhat if she lives fast through a hangin', the King may have a point, tellyawhat."

The woman turned incredulous, "If she don' die, isn' tha' Gaia Herself side choosin'?"